


we're still friends

by ooka



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ooka/pseuds/ooka
Summary: Wardo laughs, and he’s been getting better about laughing when he talks to Dustin and Chris.  For the first few years after the stock issues, Eduardo would only send short, tense emails, because while he knew they both supported him, they worked for the Civil War-era Tony Stark to his Captain America.  They had kinda sorta betrayed him and shit, Dustin missed the days when they would code entire weekends straight until Edwardo would come in with pizza and beer, and then force everyone into a break while they watched some BSG and marveled over how hot Six is.Dustin misses a lot of things, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut about some things.  Like saying the name Mark when he is on the phone with Eduardo.(Dustin and Eduardo, after everything)





	we're still friends

**One**.

 

It’s two am, and Dustin is still at the office.  Honestly, he wouldn’t  _ be _  at the office if he wasn’t fixing some intern’s code.  (Honestly, PHP isn’t that hard to code in.  He, Mark and Chris had coded the site from the bottom up in about a year, drinking ridiculous amounts of alcohol and eating way too much greasy pizza on top of their course loads.)  Actually, he’s pretty sure Mark has already gone home, leaving him as the last person at work, which is fucking creepy.  Because:

  1. Mark is a workaholic, perfectionist and in love with his baby named Facebook
  2. Mark is,  _clearly_ , not a terminator from the future who created the social network equivalent of SkyNet
  3. Mark usually Jedi mind tricks people out by ten because he worries, in his own Mark-ish way, about those around him



Point C happened around the dueling lawsuits, and Eduardo walked away with more than half of the companies’ cash worth and not even another word.  Something happened in those depositions, which only Mark, Eduardo and their team of lawyers know.  Something that made Mark attempt, rather poorly, to be more extroverted.  

Dustin doesn’t know what exactly happened, and he knows well enough to not open his mouth and ask, or it will be a ‘Spock choke a bitch’ moment.  Him being the bitch and Mark starring as Spock.  Dustin likes not being choked too much, or getting Mark’s narrowed eyed stare (of DOOOMMM) to even try and go there.

He may be high on Mountain Dew.  Dustin's not sure.

His phone starts buzzing off the table, and Dustin takes the spare hand he has and hits accept and speakerphone without even looking at it.  He’s long since become used to talking about one thing and breaking down shitty code in order to find the five million logic errors and one missing semicolon that is fucking with the button app.

(And seriously, he only has to blame on himself for buttons.  And Chris.  And Neopets.  Fucking  _Neopets_.)

“Dustin,” Eduardo says, a little startled.  “I was just going to leave you a voicemail about San Diego.  What the hell are you still doing up?”

Dustin yawns and thinks longing of his bed and a good meal.  “Interns being dumbasses.  Were we ever that stupid Wardo?” he asks, scanning line 851 and continues adding comments, because the intern didn’t even document his code, and the names for some of these items made him want to hit his head against a wall.  thirdbottomButton seriously?  And the fucking css is ridiculous.  They can’t even float the container correctly.  Clearfix that shit kid.  That's why he's over complicating the html and css.  Uggggh why?

Wardo laughs, and he’s been getting better about laughing when he talks to Dustin and Chris.  For the first few years after the stock issues, Eduardo would only send short, tense emails, because while he knew they both supported him, they worked for the Civil War-era Tony Stark to his Captain America.  They had kinda sorta betrayed him and fucking shit, Dustin missed the days when they would code entire weekends straight until Edwardo would come in with pizza and beer, and then force everyone into a break while they watched some BSG and marveled over how hot Six is.

Dustin misses a lot of things, but he knows when to keep his mouth shut about some things.  Like saying the name  _ Mark _  when he is on the phone with Eduardo.

“I was probably that dumb,” Wardo offers.  “You have always been a genius.”

It’s a bit tinged around the edges, which are sharper than normal.  “Talked to your Dad?” Dustin asks, because he is Wardo’s friend, and anything that deals with Mr. Saverin is something Eduardo needs to talk about.

“I don’t,” Wardo stops.  “He’s a bastard, and I’m not five fucking years old anymore and he cannot control my life anymore.”

Dustin nods even though he knows Wardo can’t see him.  “Yeah, buddy.  I know.”

“He just….” Wardo pauses, and it’s his, Facebook/lawsuit/ _Mark_  pause that makes Dustin want to curl into a bottle, because no one under the age of thirty should ever sound as broken and sad about something Eduardo does.  “He’s just a bastard.”

Dustin says, because he knows Wardo, not as well as sound but well enough, “You are not him.”

Wardo laughs, choked and high pitch.  “Sometimes I wonder,” he muses.  “I’m bitter, rich and alone.  I am very much on the path to being just like that asshole.”

“You have me,” Dustin returns, stilling his fingers on his keyboard, because this is bad for Eduardo to be letting it go this far.  “And Chris, and you have your work in Singapore.”

There is silence, some shuffling and Wardo says clearly, “Thanks man.”

“Welcome,” Dustin replies, letting his fingers move again as he runs down the lines of code again.  “So, San Diego.  Can you come?”

He can hear Wardo rolling his eyes.  “For an impromptu birthday party about how I am getting closer and closer to thirty?  No thanks man.”

“Aw,” Dustin groans.  “Come on.  How about Vegas?  Strip joints and casinos.”

“You would get us kicked out by counting cards.”

“You’d just have to make sure no one catches on.  Come on, Wardo.  Chris is excited and don’t make me tell Chris you aren’t coming.  I can’t deal with his pouty face man.”

Eduardo sighs the  _ you are the one who pouts, Chris will just wear me down until I say yes _  sigh, “You are contemplating hiring ninjas and having them kidnap me and deliver me to the States aren’t you?”

“Only hypothetically,” Dustin assures.  “I’m more of a fan of pirates.  Zombies would be problematic because they would eat your brains.”

“But pirates would probably end up double crossing you and kidnapping me for ransom, and I would make you pay it because you were the asshole who got me kidnapped in the first place.”

Dustin grins, adding the semicolon on line 1259, before checking to see if the code works now.  “So, ninja’s it is.  You coming or am I going to have to find ninjas?”

“Are there even ninja clans anymore?” Eduardo wonders for a moment, before adding, “Okay.  But I can’t meet on my birthday.  I have a few meetings in Vegas in three weeks, and we can have a day before I have to fly back to Singapore.”

“Awesome,” Dustin cheers, because a) Wardo agreed, b) Chris owes him fifty bucks because of point a, c) the code works, and d) he can go to bed now.  “Hey I’m heading home now.  Is there anything else?”

Wardo doesn’t say anything for a good minute as Dustin shuts down his computer and tosses his soda cans in the huge blue recycling tub he hides under his desk.  “You are at the office?” he finally queries.

“Yeah,” Dustin replies, leaving Wardo on speaker as he grabs his wallet and keys.  “Just finally leaving because of idiot interns.”

“And you let me talk on speakerphone?”

Dustin gets where Eduardo is going.  “El Helfe left a while ago.  I’m the only one left.”

“Oh,” Wardo says, a curious lilt to his voice.  “Okay.  Get some sleep man.  I’ll see you in three weeks.”

Dustin yawns.  “Kay man.  And create something better than Farmville.  That game is getting on my last fucking nerve.”

Eduardo laughs as he hangs up, and Dustin, luckily, makes it home without crashing until his head hits the pillow, and he’s out cold, barely remembering how he got home, let alone if there were anymore lights on when he left the building.

 

 

 **Two**.

Dustin calls Wardo around one am, California time, pissed and tired, and seriously going to snap and start breaking laptops ala Eduardo if he doesn’t talk to someone, so he grabs the phone and speed dials Wardo on speaker.

“Dustin,” Wardo states as soon as he answers.  “We had this talk in college, and I should not have to remind you that sleep is not optional.”

“Privacy standards are going to fucking kill me.  And probably Chris.  And everyone else.  We’re drowning in hate mail, and shit Wardo, we’re getting murdered left and right in the press,” Dustin hisses, attacking his keys so loudly that they clang instead of click.  

“Yeah,” Wardo hums, some papers rustle in the background. “I read about that in the paper.  Worse than the dislike button, I heard.”

Dustin laughs, because the dislike button has been a joke since forever, and Chris must have told him that one.  “Seriously though,” Eduardo adds, as lightly as he can.  “Don’t worry about getting sued, your lawyers are good at making deals.”

He holds his breath for a second before remembering that it was  _ Eduardo _  who had made the joke and not him.  “Fuck that, we’ll go bankrupt then.”

“Good thing I already took my money and ran across the world,” Wardo counters.

Dustin snorts.  “Can I come stay with you then?”

He can hear Eduardo’s grin in his retort, “Well, I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dustin wakes up a little.  “What?”

“I have a meeting next week and since I thought I could just crash at yours and we could do a thing at your place.  I thought about Chris, but I don’t want to disturb the love birds.”  Eduardo pauses for a second.  “Unless that is a bad idea?”

“No, no, no.  Of course not,” Dustin’s words are rushed and slammed together.  “Of course I have space, and it’s fine and of course.”

“Aren’t you going to ask when I’m coming in?” Eduardo asks, amused.

“When?” he parrots, and doesn’t expect to hear,  _ next Friday _ .

“Wait.  Are you coming to the shareholders meeting?” Dustin asks, mouth ajar.  “I thought you would never come to one of those after….”  He stops talking because this is part of the unwritten agreement.  They talk about anything but the time Eduardo’s best friend kicked him out of the company.  Chris has been hung up on more times than Dustin can count.

“No,” Eduardo says in a hard tone.  There is pause, where Dustin wriggles in his chair, ass hurting from being in a chair for way too fucking long.  God when was the last time he peed?  “Maybe.” Eduardo finally says.  “I don’t know any more Dustin.”

“Are you…” Fuck how do you ask this?  “Are you still angry?”

It’s silent.  “Not any more.  I’m just so tired.”

Dustin clutches the phone a little tighter.  “Man, don’t do anything stupid.”  

"I'm never stupid," Eduardo says, but it sounds more like, I've always been dumb.

"Wardo?"

"I've got to run," Eduardo replies, sounding distracted.  "I've got a date.  I'll call you tomorrow with more details."

"Oh," Dustin mumbles.  "Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> cleaning out the archives.


End file.
